


These Ordinary Days

by Trotter



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, boys being dumb, kwon soonyoung is a disaster, the rest of the vocal team are in the background just shaking their heads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-12 15:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12962517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trotter/pseuds/Trotter
Summary: Soonyoung doesn’t want to put a name to the feeling, but he knows where it comes from.Seokmin was kind and funny and always had chocolate in his pockets, ready to share. And then there were his hands, long and slender, and his face, which always looked so handsome when he was serious, but lovelier still when he smiled. Maybe Soonyoung was in trouble, because he couldn't stop thinking about that. Maybe what he'd put down to simple chemistry wasn't chemistry at all.





	These Ordinary Days

After Soonyoung has washed and pajama’d up and is staring down the barrel of helping Chan with his homework, he goes through all the notifications from the members and finds a photo uploaded on their Twitter that practically says, “Lee Seokmin and Yoon Jeonghan are boyfriends.” From his corner of the room, Minghao gives an affirmative grunt.

“Ah, that,” Chan says, leaning over to look at Soonyoung’s phone. “I think they went down to Han River again. The lighting is nice.”

The lighting _is_ nice. One of their managers must have taken it when they were too preoccupied with each other to notice, because it’s as candid as it can be; Seokmin’s gesturing, serious, his eyebrows scrunched and sunlight glinting off the rings on his slim fingers. Jeonghan’s just leaning forward and watching him, a slight smile lingering on his lips. They’re both gently flushed. One of Jeonghan’s hands is twisted in Seokmin’s sleeve.

“Seokmin-ah’s visuals are working hard,” Jun says.

“Eyyy, what are you talking about, look at Jeonghannie-hyung,” Soonyoung says automatically.

Chan stops scratching his head over his Math problems to offer, “They look good together,” and after a general hum of agreement, no one thinks much about it.

 

Seokmin slumps next to him after practice the next day, sweaty and flushed with exertion. Soonyoung throws him a water bottle and he drinks.

 “I might go to the convenience store to get ramen later,” Soonyoung says, fanning himself.

“Oh, let me come with you,” Seokmin says immediately. “I’m starving, and I think everyone else ate earlier at the dorm. It’s ten-thirty already.”

“Let’s go to the one in front of Han River,” Soonyoung says. “I haven’t been there in ages.”

“Hm, okay. It’s kind of far though, don’t you want to go to the store down the hill?” Seokmin says, typing on his phone. “Ah, Jeonghannie-hyung’s telling us to wear our coats since it’s chilly out.”

“That’s nice of him,” Soonyoung says, because it _is_ nice that Jeonghan and Seokmin care so much about each other. If Soonyoung ever dated somebody, he’d want them to care like that. “You know, I was kind of thinking we could lie down and relax a little before we come back. You know, healing.”

That makes Seokmin look up, eyebrows kind of raised. Soonyoung sweats.

“Can’t stop this healing?”

Seokmin is definitely the only member who would have let him get away with that. Soonyoung beams at him. “Dive in, dive in, dive in.”

After a brief skit about Dynafit, they pull on their coats and set out. It’s quiet and private without their customary pack of thirteen filling up the street. Most of the members are at the studio, recording, and the rest are at the dorm.

“It’s been a while,” Seokmin says. “It feels like I haven’t seen you properly since we all got busy with our unit stuff, hyung.”

“Aigoo, grandpa,” Soonyoung croons, sliding comfortably into character. “Every minute I spend away from you feels like a year to these old bones.”

“Grandma, don’t you remember all those times we shared our love near this river when we were young? I caught a fish as big as a horse once, to keep you fed.”

“What kind was it?”

“It was a piranha—ow, hyung, quit it,” as Soonyoung elbows him indignantly. He looks at him and Seokmin’s grinning huge, everything about him so familiar, so easy and comfortable it’s like slipping into an old favorite T-shirt, and—

Soonyoung realizes he’s staring at Seokmin’s mouth. _And nothing,_ he lectures himself, sounding a lot like old man Coups in his own head. All these stupid slip-ups like thinking about how good Seokmin looks under the lamplight smiling, about how he fills out his jacket so well and how his snapback shows off the sharpness of his jaw. He thinks about possessive fingers threaded in Seokmin’s sweater sleeve, and he looks away.

Talking to Seokmin through mouthfuls of ramen and fishcakes lifts his spirits (“They don’t call me happy virus for nothing,” and a waggle of eyebrows is all he gets when Soonyoung mentions this) but back at the company building, away from the chilly quiet of the streets, he feels worse than before. He watches his reflection in the mirrors as he practices and he looks tired: there is a frown around his mouth that takes a few tries to smooth away.

 

Soonyoung doesn’t want to put a name to the feeling, but he knows where it comes from.

For the longest time, he’d put it down as chemistry: Seokmin looked into his eyes, smiling, and seemed to know exactly how to play along with any joke. Seokmin was kind and funny and always had chocolate in his pockets, ready to share. And then there were his hands, long and slender, and his face, which always looked so handsome when he was serious, but lovelier still when he smiled. And yeah, maybe it wasn’t just chemistry, if Soonyoung couldn’t stop thinking about it.

 _First love concept,_ Soonyoung thinks as he lies in bed, scrolling through all the pictures of Seokmin in his phone. One of them is of him imitating a frilled neck lizard, and Soonyoung smiles fondly at it, and notices Jeonghan in the picture doing the same.

_Okay, okay._

 

“Soonyoungie-hyung,” Seokmin says, a few days after. “Hyung, they asked me to do a solo VLive. Come and be my guest.”

Soonyoung looks up at his bright eyes. “Can’t,” he says breezily. “Gotta meet Jihoon to go over my lines again.”

“Oh,” Seokmin hesitates. “It won’t take long, though. Um, I thought we could do Seoksoon Talk, since, you know, we haven’t done it in a while.”

“Hey, I think Jeonghannie-hyung’s free,” Soonyoung says, patting Seokmin’s shoulder heartily. He walks out of the room before he can see what kind of face Seokmin makes at this.

He runs into Seungkwan when he re-enters, not ten minutes later, both distracted by their phones. “Ah, hyung,” Seungkwan says, surprise evident. “You’re back already? Woozi-hyung must have let you off easy.”

“Ahaha, yeah,” says Soonyoung. “Are you watching the Live?”

Seungkwan pumps a fist. “Of course. I tapped like seven hundred hearts already. I think I’ll go and join them in a bit.”

Soonyoung, eyes glued to the way Seokmin and Jeonghan are play-fighting onscreen –Seokmin’s arms are wrapped around Jeonghan’s shoulders, and they keep touching each other’s faces for no apparent reason—takes a minute to process this. His head snaps up, eyes wide. “You can’t.”

Seungkwan blinks. “I can’t?”

“I mean,” Soonyoung says, “Jeonghan-hyung and Seokmin-ah are close, and they know how to keep things interesting without an MC. I’m sure they like it better like this. Sort of like a, _we get along super well_ broadcast. Like Andromeda.”

“But hyung, you’re the one closest to Seokmin-hyung but you haven’t done this kind of show with him. If we both go now I’m sure he’ll be really happy.”

 _Closest_. Right. Seokmin hasn’t even told him he and Jeonghan were --dating? Was that it? Somehow it felt more serious, deeper-- how can that be called close? Soonyoung feels kind of ill.

“Hoshi-hyung,” Seungkwan says, with a timidness that automatically makes Soonyoung lift a hand to ruffle his sweaty hair. “Is there something bothering you?”

 “Sort of,” he says. “But from now on, I’m going to stop letting it bother me.”

Seungkwan smiles, messy-haired and sweet. “Hope it goes well for you, hyung.”

 

It goes well for a few days. Their Japan tour begins and Seokmin and Jeonghan are always the last to come out of their hotel room and they always look giggly and delighted. One night when Jeonghan keeps falling asleep at the restaurant, Seokmin tickles him awake, both hands snuck under his loose white T shirt.

Soonyoung, as promised, doesn’t care. He’s too busy focusing on Seungkwan, who’s making some kind of dad joke. When he’s done Soonyoung laughs loudly alone— everyone else is stone-faced, and even Seungkwan looks kind of stunned. “Only Hoshi-hyung appreciates me,” he says, a beat delayed.

Seokmin and Jeonghan don’t notice the chilly silence on the other side of the table, curved towards each other like sunflowers, and the hand Seokmin strokes along Jeonghan’s forehead looks apologetic and tender. The evenings always start with them as a whole thirteen but as the night settles in they migrate into smaller groups like this, mostly at random except for the two of them, who always seem to do everything together.

“It’s like Seokmin-hyung doesn’t have time for me anymore,” Vernon muses fake-sadly from Soonyoung’s left, and Soonyoung thinks, _lot of that going around._

 

For all of the dire thoughts that churn inside his head, Soonyoung sleeps great at night, worn out by practice and seeing Seokmin at practice but not playing around with him. Usually it’s the maknae’s alarm that wakes him, but sometimes he wakes up to Seokmin, shaking his shoulder and poking at his cheeks, beaming, holding a finger up to his lips. It still makes Soonyoung’s heart stupid happy to wake up to it.

“Hyung,” Seokmin says, and Soonyoung sighs. Years of Seokmin using that tone on him, and you’d think he’d be used to it by now, Soonyoung thinks, but Soonyoung keeps getting caught up in the bright excitement in Seokmin’s eyes, the scoop of his neckline falling gently forward to expose sun-kissed collarbones. “Let’s go to that Korean barbecue place.”

“Jeonghan-hyung didn’t want to go?” Soonyoung says. He’s trying hard not to be bothered by Seokmin like this, by his actor face or his musician’s hands, all put on earth by some deity that wanted to test Soonyoung’s resolve. “Ah, is he on a diet?”

“Jeonghannie-hyung? No, I’m not sure.” Worry flickers through his expression. Despite himself, Soonyoung thinks _Stop doubting yourself, Seok-ah! Fighting!_ “Should I ask him?”

Soonyoung jumps out of bed. His heart is thudding against his ribcage. One of his earliest memories from his trainee days is of Seokmin looking at him with the same face he’s making now, and Soonyoung reaching up to stroke soft, coaxing fingers over his cheek. That was before Jeonghan was there to become everybody’s favorite hyung.

Letting his jealousy stop him from comforting his dongsaeng isn’t very hyung-like behavior though. Soonyoung touches Seokmin’s jaw and tips his face towards him. “I’d love to come with you. Seoksoon rise.”

The corners of Seokmin’s lips push up under Soonyoung’s fingertips. His skin feels nice; soft, boyishly lined with stubble. With his life bustling noisily forward like a train, Soonyoung had forgotten Seokmin could look like this: lit up from the inside with something vulnerable and raw and full of affection, so handsome it hurts his heart--

His hand drops to his side like he’d been burned.

Seokmin leans back too, puzzled. “What—”

“Let’s go before the others wake up,” Soonyoung swallows.

A beat of silence passes before Seokmin meets his eyes and smiles lightly. “Okay, hyung.”

 

“Cold attack!” Seokmin sings, pressing chilly fingers to Soonyoung’s cheeks and cackling at the noise Soonyoung makes. “Yah, I’m really wondering if this was a stupid idea. Maybe we should have gone for ramen instead, at least it’s warm.”

Soonyoung is still flushing furiously. It’s the cold, he reasons: the restaurant had outdoor seating under a cherry blossom tree, and they’d both been tempted. “No,” he says. “Coups-hyung’s taking us tonight. Wanna play cham cham cham while we wait?”

They play six rounds before their food arrives, piled high on plates and gently steaming. Soonyoung breaks chopsticks for both of them and Seokmin cracks open the cola they bought on the way.

The food warms them up. They don’t talk until their stomachs are satisfied; it’s something all the members have in common, and why Seventeen won’t be getting any mukbang offers anytime soon. It’s a pity, since their group’s reaction-rich.

“Hey, hey, Seok-ah, who am I?” Soonyoung says. He takes a bite of beef and lets his eyes go so wide they pop out, looking up at Seokmin in wonder.

Seokmin is doubled over, clapping and making dying noises. “Bangchan, Bangchan,” he yells. “Hyung, do Seungkwannie.”

Soonyoung takes another bite and pretends to think. His delight this time is slow-dawning; the climax of his performance is closing his eyes with a smile.

“Ah, that was funny,” Seokmin rasps once he’s recovered. “All this unit stuff is all well and good but I’ve seriously missed this, hyung. I barely see you around anymore.”

Soonyoung swallows again. It feels like there’s something permanently wedged down his throat these days. “I know I’ve got Jihoon-ah beat on this leader thing. Wanna join Performance team? Membership is twenty per cent off this holiday season.”

“I said I missed this, not you,” Seokmin says, rolling his eyes extravagantly. “Besides, Minghao and Dino update me even if you never do, and it sounds like they don’t see you a lot either. The life of a unit leader.”

“Yah, yah,” Soonyoung says. “You make me sound like I’m some kind of neighborhood hyung that won the lottery and built a pool in his back garden.” When Seokmin grins and shrugs, Soonyoung goes cold all over, a little sick with fear. “Seok-ah, just because I’m not there sometimes doesn’t mean I don’t have time for you,” he says with helpless urgency. “You’re my favorite dongsaeng.”

A light turns on behind Seokmin’s eyes. “Really?” He sounds like he wants to pretend he’s joking. His mouth is making an uncertain shape like it’s trying to pull into a smile. “Am I? You can’t just say that, Soonyoung-hyung.”

“No, no, for real,” Soonyoung says. “I swear. I swear on our group, you’re my bias, Seok-ah.”

Seokmin nods. "Yeah," he says, and looks up at Soonyoung, dark eyes and faint smile, as though he knows something Soonyoung doesn’t, peaceful and ready, calmer than Soonyoung is used to seeing him. The lump in Soonyoung’s throat is breathing in, expanding. He listens as the wind rustles through the branches of the tree and drops petals in the thick mess of Seokmin’s hair. This early in the morning his curls are wilder than usual, sticky-outy cartoon doodles. “You too, hyung.”

He leans forward in the light falling out of the restaurant windows. One of his hands comes up to Soonyoung’s cheek, fingers splayed, cradling his face delicately like he’s holding the side of the moon, something terribly precious. For a moment, Soonyoung believes—he really thinks Seokmin’s about to—

But then the spell breaks, and Soonyoung remembers, and he jerks away.

“You have sauce on your—” Seokmin points at the corner of his lips, not meeting his eyes. Soonyoung mirrors him still trapped in a daze. The feel of Seokmin’s skin on his still lingers. It’s warm.

“Ahaha,” Soonyoung laughs, too loud. “That was pretty smooth, Seok-ah. You’ll be a good boyfriend for someone someday.”

He watches. It’s the perfect opening for Seokmin to confide about his relationship with Jeonghan. Say, _actually, hyung--_

Seokmin is still looking down at the grooves on the table. The curve of his shoulders almost looks defeated.

“Right,” he says quietly.

“Right.”

Seokmin looks up, finally, and the light must be playing tricks on him, because Seokmin looks like he’s about to cry.

Soonyoung breathes, “Seok-ah, what—”

“Hyung, can we go back now?” he says, mouth lifting in the ghost of a smile that punches clean through Soonyoung. “I forgot I promised Woozi-hyung I’d wake him up on time.”

“What about dessert?”

“Let’s share the jelly with the members,” Seokmin says. Bundled up in his long padded coat, he looks small. “Vocal team loves them.”

There doesn’t seem to be anything left to say. Soonyoung looks down at his palms for answers and wonders why it feels like he’d done something wrong. “Guess we should get going, then.”

Seokmin nods.

That’s the last time they speak to each other in weeks.

 

It’s not that surprising, really. They’re usually in orbit around each other, joking around, lifting the rest of the members’ spirits. Since the episode at the restaurant, Seokmin almost entirely stops so much as glancing Soonyoung’s way. No more backhugs between practices, no more stupid dance battles. Soonyoung hears him singing along to the song Soonyoung was humming at the dorm, and hears him stopping, abruptly, like he’d realized.

With eleven other members it’s laughably easy to hide it from everyone. Soonyoung surrounds himself with friends like he’s building a fortress, and still feels, every time Seokmin stares at his shoulder instead of meeting his eyes, awfully alone.

 

Seokmin loves Soonyoung’s dog, a gangly Dalmatian named Honey Bread. Honey Bread loves him too, always boofing happily when Seokmin joins Soonyoung’s FaceTime his family, wagging his ropy tail when Seokmin sings. He’s not a particularly cute dog, but Seokmin loves him to death.

“What are you doing now, you strange child,” Seungcheol says, coming over to sit next to him. He peeks at the screen and grimaces. “Oh, it’s the hound of hell. I can’t believe your sisters send you pictures of him.”

Soonyoung jerks his phone away. He feels weird. Protective. Funny, because he’d never minded anyone dissing his dog before. “They’re for Seokmin.”

“Hm? So why aren’t you sending it?”

Soonyoung fidgets. He opens the last chat he’d had with Seokmin, a meaningless plaintive back-and-forth about all the delicious things they were going to eat once comeback season was over.

He kills the screen. “It’s not a great picture. I asked her to send another one.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol says, mildly.

“She likes him better than me anyway,” Soonyoung adds. “What about your brothers, hyung? Did they betray you for someone else as well?”

Seungcheol radiates smugness. “They hang up my individual posters in their apartments,” he chirps, laughing big and loud when he catches Soonyoung pouting. “Ah, but we don’t let that bother us, do we?”

Soonyoung scoffs. “’Course not. Stuff like that would never get in the way of our teamwork.”

People don’t take him seriously when he says things like that. Interviewers smile fondly, variety MCs think it’s a wound-up line even though he reeks of sincerity, and there are days when he thinks even some of the staff might not take him at his word. But he means it, with every bone in his body: he’d never do anything that would end up with Seventeen’s harmony being compromised. Even when it hurt.

“Soonyoung-ah,” Seungcheol says, eyes soft. “You’re really admirable, you know that right? I don’t know where this team would be without you. You keep going out of your way to bring us together. I’m always amazed by you.”

“Hyung, if this is a confession, I’m gonna have to ask you to stop right there—”

“But, Soonyoungie,” Seungcheol says gently, “it’s okay to be selfish sometimes.”

Soonyoung’s jaw snaps shut. He stares at his leader, eyes wide, frozen in place.

“Whatever’s got you like this,” Seungcheol says, “it’s okay to fight against it. You don’t need to worry so much about disrupting the peace or anything. The team will be fine.” He pinches Soonyoung’s cheek, maybe because Soonyoung looks like he might dissolve. “Dumb- dumb.”

 

It goes on like that. Soonyoung watches not-that-great variety shows when he’s not practicing, which is not often. He doesn’t sleep a lot. He helps Chan with his homework and plays with Seungkwan, the only hope of entertainment in the dorms now that Seokmin isn’t talking to him anymore, which is fine, he deserves it. Autumn comes in, unexpectedly cold, which is also fine, because they all only wear padded jackets nowadays.

On the first day of November, Soonyoung goes into the dorms struggling out of his coat, to a face he hasn’t seen in a while waiting in his room.

“Oh,” says Seokmin, letting the manga in his hands drop onto the bed. “Hey, hyung.”

“Hey,” Soonyoung says, pinching himself hard. It really hurts. Not a dream then, but it’s good to ground himself in case he forgets himself and fucks up like last time. “Come here often?” He winces. “Sorry. Forget I said that. What are you doing here, Seok-ah?”

Seokmin blinks, bunching up the sheets in between his fingers. “What are—why are you pinching yourself?”

“Nothing, no reason,” Soonyoung says. “Anyway. Shouldn’t you be at practice? Woozi-ah isn’t going to be happy. Not that. You know. I don’t particularly want you here. I just don’t want you to get in--”

“Hyung, can we start being friends again?”

This brings Soonyoung up short. He looks up, and Seokmin is staring at him, eyes blown wide, and he realizes that Seokmin hasn’t changed at all. It still looks wrong when he isn’t smiling, he still owns duck-print shirts, and Soonyoung still wants to kiss him.

He stays quiet for so long that Seokmin’s shoulders cave in. “Sorry,” he says. “I just thought—I’m an idiot, never mind.”

“Seokmin,” he says, as carefully as he can. “We’re still friends. Why did you think we weren’t? Because,” he pauses. _Selfish,_ Coups reminds him. “Is it because you’re with Jeonghannie-hyung?”

The miserable downward twist of Seokmin’s mouth turns perplexed. “What?”

“Did you stop talking to me because I like you even though you’re with Jeonghan?”

“I—what? _You_ stopped talking to _me._ And what do you mean, Jeonghannie-hyung? We’re not. Wait. You _like_ me?”

“This is stupid,” Soonyoung says, angrily embarrassed. “Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not, hyung, come here,” and Soonyoung watches, dry-mouthed, as he slips off the bed and comes towards him, closer, till they’re standing a hairsbreadth apart. Seokmin is biting his lip. It’s dangerously sexy.

“I’m not dating Jeonghannie-hyung,” Seokmin says.

Soonyoung is riveted by Seokmin’s lip-bite. When had he learned how to do that? “Okay.”

“Don’t push me away this time,” Seokmin murmurs.

“Okay,” Soonyoung says, exhaling.

This time, as promised, when Seokmin leans in, Soonyoung doesn’t pull back - he makes a tiny sound and pushes up on his toes, letting himself be kissed. It turns out Seokmin’s a good kisser, and it makes something coil in Soonyoung’s stomach, and he responds easily, pulling  Seokmin’s lower lip between sharp teeth as Soonyoung’s eyes fall closed. He tastes sweet --gummy worms, Seokmin’s stress food, he wasn’t so grown up after all.

It all becomes unfamiliar again once Seokmin touches slender fingers to his jaw, and licks into his mouth. Soonyoung shivers and hums against his mouth, and slides his hand up Seokmin’s back to curl his hand around the back of Seokmin’s neck, the skin there smooth and flushed hot. Soonyoung nips at Seokmin’s lip tentatively, kissing it better, until Seokmin pulls away with a soft sharp groan.

“Hyung,” he says. “my brain feels like mashed potatoes. But I’m mad at you.”

“I know, I was horrible,” Soonyoung says. He licks his own lips, chasing the lingering sweetness in his mouth. “Sorry.”

Seokmin is visibly distracted. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, darting forward to press more kisses on Soonyoung. Then, grimacing, “Jeonghannie-hyung’s never going to let us live this down.”

Soonyoung closes his eyes. “Don’t remind me. Cheol-hyung came up and gave me permission to confess to you.”

“Really?” Seokmin says, laughing, his eyes crinkling into achingly familiar curves, lines fanning out around them. Soonyoung kisses the skin there, quietly delighted at how it makes Seokmin grin wider.

“Yeah. I wasn’t doing a great job of hiding how shitty I felt,” he says. He catches Seokmin’s falling expression and adds dramatically, “it was awful. He patted me on the back and everything.”

Seokmin snorts. “You’ve suffered a lot.”

“Hm,” Soonyoung says, and kisses him again, because he loves him, because he can, now. He gives a bright, cheesy grin. “Worth it though.”

 

 

“It’s amazing how close they are,” Soonyoung mentions offhand to Wonwoo, a few days later at their fansign. “Their skinship is no joke.”

On his left, Jihoon groans something that sounds a lot like _not this shit again._ Soonyoung ignores him and waits, patiently, for Wonwoo to stop struggling with a packet of vegetable crackers.

“Who?”

“Jeonghan and Seokmin, of course,” Soonyoung says, rolling his eyes. “They went out to karaoke together yesterday and sang together.”

Soonyoung knows. Soonyoung was there.

Jihoon mutters, _I quit this fucking group._

“Jeonghan is like that with everyone, though?” Wonwoo says, after some thought. “And Kyeom-ah is worse with you. All you two do is make out.”

“The loyalty in vocal unit,” Soonyoung says loudly, “is no joke. I can’t believe he’s over there when he could be doing skinship with me, his boyfriend. What am I supposed to do? If I hug either of you I’ll lose my hands and I need them for dancing.”

“We’ll do anything you like,” Jihoon seethes, “if you shut up.”

“Tempting, Woozi-yah,” Soonyoung says, lighting up as Seokmin finally escapes Jeonghan’s smirk-y hugs and bounds towards him, beaming. “But I think I’ll pass.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a quote in Nichijou, roughly translated to: The ordinary days that we live in may, in fact, be a series of miracles. Inspired by the ungodly amount of fuel seokhan has been giving us recently agdkaldbsk RIP seoksoon
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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